“If fire wasn’t bad enough the gods gave us love so if flames failed to burn us down we had each other still.”

When I think of things that fade from reach I see birds and balloons, life and love, me and you.

Pain has one name but finds you through many.

My longing for intimacy does not abandon the love I’ve built for myself.

My longing for intimacy does not abandon the love I’ve built for myself.

When we die plant us close so life grows from our love still. Even in death my chest will bloom for you.

A vicious cycle of becoming the thing that hurt you the most- Life.

If i never find the words for how much you mean to me you’re all the best ones and then some, love.

Love me fearlessly for everything I am and all the things I come with.

When I love I leave nothing for the dogs.

If words could scatter flesh the way it feels inside the heart i’d be holding up the walls in the house of our goodbye.

Do you remember when I felt like home?

If drowning taught me how to swim, this fall will teach me how to fall.

To be struck with a force you cannot match if not death it must be love.

The death of imagination is the end of all possibility.

Palm trees-they bend but never break I hope your love grows like this.

My mind is never where it needs to be and doesn’t tell me where it goes it runs away one window to the next looking for you.

If your sanity requires you to talk less and feel more, so be it. You are not a bad person for not entertaining everyone.

The gratification comes, for me, in the doing of it. And once I’ve done it, I can’t do anything about it if it’s good or if it’s bad.

And I’ve been hurt hurt bad. I might be just twenty-six, but I’m an old woman in disguise twenty-six goin’on sixty-five.

Each and every bad seed counts, for even if they don’t survive or grow too beautifully, a bad seed allows you to re-evalutate the others and appreciate them even more.

There is a strong tendency to get used to and accept very bad things that would be shocking if seen with fresh eyes.

Everyone agrees that the failure of our high schools is tragic. It’s bad business, and it’s bad policy. But we act as if it can’t be helped. It can be helped. We designed these high schools; we can redesign them.

To cure worry, spend fifteen minutes daily filling your mind full of God. Worry is just a very bad mental habit. You can change any habit with God’s help.

To a brave man, good and bad luck are like his left and right hand. He uses both.